


shameless

by schwanenkoenigin



Series: only you pt. 1 [15]
Category: Fifth Harmony (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, First Kiss, Prompt Fill, Songfic, they're so awkward and so into each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-16 00:11:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19306687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schwanenkoenigin/pseuds/schwanenkoenigin
Summary: request: based on the weeknd's song 'shameless.' lauren's dad is a priest. she and camila meet for the first time.....and things happen.





	shameless

**Author's Note:**

> got this request on wattpad.
> 
> hope you like it!

Being in a church has never really done anything for her. It's like being anywhere. It's like being in a shopping mall, but _slightly_ more boring. Or like being in a museum, just a teeny, tiny bit less overwhelming. If she's honest, it is actually quite underwhelming. As in _constantly rolling her eyes_ underwhelming.

It's ironic, really, finding being in church an experience comparable to being in literally any building when one of her parents is an actual priest. Honestly? Her father would probably give her a day long lecture if he ever found out that she thinks about holy spaces like this. Especially because he'd taken every chance he's had raising her, to take her to different churches, and to read out _special_ texts to her. And she appreciates it. She really does. She can't ask for better parents.

She's just not religious. At all. Like, she doesn't get the concept of believing in things that can't be explained or seen. She gets that there are people out there who do, and she totally respects that, but she wouldn't get into that stuff herself. She hasn't, and, even with all of her dad's trying, she definitely won't. Unless something incredibly unexpected happens that makes her reevaluate the entirety of things. She doesn't exactly consider that a possibility, though.

Her dad _has_ taught her, however, that anything can happen. So who knows?

At least, she finds the looks of all the interiors interesting. That's something, isn't it? She has something to make those Sunday mornings more agreeable. Barely.

Lauren yawns as her dad continues reading the bible passage he's currently invested in. She has absolutely no clue what it's about. People lying and getting killed for it, people saving each other and dying, people doing more things they're not allowed to and, ultimately, dying. Or getting killed.

She can imagine loads of things that would be more fun to do right now. Loads of things that do not involve church at 10:30am on a Sunday. Like listening to music. Or having breakfast. Or sleeping. God, she would _love_ to be able to sleep in every weekend like normal college students. It just sounds _so good_ to her.

She agreed to be here once a month to support her dad, though. Because he's supported her a lot growing up. And even if she doesn't agree with everything he says in here, he's still a great person and a great father and she wants to give some love back to him. He deserves it.

"Honey, are you okay?" her mom whispers into her ear.

Lauren turns to her right. Her mom is looking at her with a knitted brow. There is a look of worry on her face. "What-- why?"

"I can see tears on your face."

Her hand immediately shoots up to wipe her cheek. _Ah, damn._ "Sorry, I-- I got lost in thought."

The worry increases visibly. "Something bad?"

"No," Lauren assures with a smile. She takes her mom's hand and squeezes it. "I promise."

Clara's features soften. "Okay."

"I need a moment, though. Would it be okay to go outside for a bit?" Lauren knows, of course, that it's fine. But good manners matter to her. "Have to get some fresh air."

"Of course, Lauren. I'll tell your dad if he asks."

"Thank you," Lauren replies with a grateful smile on her face. She kisses her mom's cheek before standing up and slowly making her way to the end of the bench. She looks at her father from afar, sends him a reassuring nod, then turns to walk towards the door that she knows leads to a back room and, ultimately, outside. Once she has exited the room, she takes her headphones out and connects them to her phone. She takes a long breath. It smells like freshly cut grass. And like rain. Her eyes flutter shut as she puts her headphones on.

Music is just as important to her as breathing. She wouldn’t know what to do without it. It’s saved her from a lot of stuff. A few years back, her depression had almost swallowed her whole. She was trying to figure her life out, really, when the bad feelings struck her. And had it not been for the new music she’d discovered, then, who knows what would have happened to her. She sighs. It isn’t just for the music, of course. She isn’t kidding herself; she knows she wasn’t healed by it. But it helped her go out and get help.

She’s on medication now. Medication that _works_. It makes her way less anxious, for starters, and it helps her deal with her overthinking. She is able to sleep at night, and this means she is able to get out of bed every morning.

She can’t stand people who pretend that tablets are the enemy. Who refuse to take their meds. Because they _do_ help. She most likely wouldn’t be here without them, so she’ll defend medication-based therapy any day.

_Say it louder, say it louder_  
_Who's gonna love you like me, like me?  
_Say it louder, say it louder  
_Who's gonna touch you like me, like me?___

Oh boy. Lauren blushes---with her cheeks becoming the color of an actual tomato---and she quickly fishes her phone out of the pocket of her jeans. Her heart is racing; it feels as if she's just been caught stealing or doing some other illegal thing. Although, she supposes that listening to a really explicit song in a holy establishment kind of equals to doing something that is against the law. She's just glad nobody can read her thoughts.

_Ooh, said you wanna be good, but you couldn't keep your composure_  
_Ooh, said you wanna be good, but you're begging me to come over  
_Ooh, come over, ooh  
_Saying, who's gonna fuck you like me? Yeah___

Because _they_ are a whole other kind of explicit. To distract herself from them, Lauren starts walking along the path that leads up to the church’s parking lot. She shakes her head a few times, trying to rid herself of the scenes that are currently playing in her head, but it doesn’t really work. So, by the time she stops right next to a shiny black BMW, her brain has almost been completely taken over by the images of herself on top of another woman. Not just _on top of_ her, _inside_ her. And, holy God, they’re both sweaty. They’re panting, hard, and their hair is messy, and Lauren’s eyes are closed---maybe because she doesn’t actually have a specific woman to imagine---and she’s rocking her hips into her lover’s, and she’s _incredibly_ turned on, herself, and--

_I don't wanna hurt you, but you live for the pain_  
_I'm not tryna say it, but it's what you became  
_You want me to fix you, but it's never enough  
_S'why you always call me, cause you're scared to be loved___

Lauren bites her lip a bit too hard.

Her mind goes blank for a second. Then, suddenly, she’s lying next to her lover, holding her close, whispering into her ear that she loves her, that she’ll always be there for her. That she wants to be with her, not for a day, not for a night, but forever.

“You look like you’re going through a whole bunch of emotions there. Are you okay?”

Her head snaps up. Her heart starts racing again, too, afraid she’s just been caught for real. Wide green eyes scan the person that’s now very obviously standing in front of her, trying to make sense of the situation. Their face looks soft and they have long hair and Lauren really hopes that whoever this is cannot read thoughts. Although---they did notice she’s been lost inside her head, so maybe they can read her-- even if it’s just facial expressions, they might still have given her away and-- Lauren blushes an even darker red than before. It being the only thing she can think of doing right now, she looks right past the intruder, and she runs her hand through her locks, trying to escape the person’s questioning, almost examining look.

She clears her throat. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

The incredulous glance that her counterpart throws her gives her chills---without even seeing it. “No, you’re not.”

Okay, so, now that the person takes another step towards her, they’re so close that she can’t focus on anything else anymore. So what she does is _look_. At them. At their concerned face, into their beautiful brown concerned eyes--

And, suddenly, the woman in her fantasy has a face.

_But I'll always be there for you, I'll always be there for you_  
_I'll always be there for you, girl, I have no shame (shame)  
_I'll always be there for you, I'll always be there for you  
_I'll always be there for you, girl, I have no shame (shame)___

What could Lauren possibly say to someone she’s just met who’s already made their way into one of her most explicit fantasies?

_Say it louder, say it louder_  
_Who's gonna love you like me, like me? Yeah  
_Say it louder, say it louder  
_Who's gonna touch you like me, like me?___

Nothing, as it turns out. Because _they_ talk.

“Okay, so, are you going to tell me what’s up or am I going to have to call someone to make sure you don’t, like, faint on me or something?” They chuckle nervously. “You seem like you’re kind of, like, distracted and, um, I know all about being in your head too much so--” They finish off with another awkward laugh.

Lauren stares at them for a few seconds. This is absurd. One second, she’s in church, the next, she’s listening to a _very_ sexual song, imagining the most sinful of things with a faceless woman. And now here she is, facing the person whose face has made it into those _thoughts_ , and she’s gentle and caring and she’d probably faint herself if Lauren told her _any_ of this.  “Christ. Okay, so here’s the deal,” she mumbles, “I came out here to get some air and listen to some music.”

“Right…”

“And I guess I got lost in-- in, like, a song.” Lauren bites her lip as her cheeks start tingling yet again. It’s not a lie, really, it’s just kind of an understatement.

“Oh!” the person exclaims, “Oh, yeah, I know all about that.”

Lauren lets out a quiet, “Uh, no, you don’t,” but once she’s said it, she regrets it. Because from what she’s seen so far, they’re very curious, and they’re going to ask what she means and, Jesus, she is _so_ not ready to talk about it.

_Ooh, said it'd be the last time, all you needed was a little closure_  
_Ooh, said it'd be the last time, but you're begging me to come over  
__Ooh, come over, ooh  
_Saying, who's gonna fuck you like me?____

They are _definitely_ thinking about inquiring further. “Anyway,” they say, however, “I’m Camila!” _Camila_... finally a name to go with the face. She now has a name her imaginary self can moan when--

“Uh,” she interrupts her own thoughts, “I’m Lauren.” Her reply is a mere rasp. She _hopes_ Camila cannot tell when people are turned on because Lauren definitely is right now---the fact that she’s met her song lover in real life now only adds to the beauty and pleasurability of that certain fantasy---and she’s pretty sure it reflects in her tone of voice. She brushes a strand of hair behind her ears. “Hi.”

_I don't wanna hurt you, but you live for the pain_  
_I'm not tryna say it, but it's what you became  
_You want me to fix you, but it's never enough  
_S'why you always call me, cause you're scared to be loved___

“Hi,” Camila all but _rasps_ back.

Is Lauren still imagining things or is Camila still getting closer?

_But I'll always be there for you, I'll always be there for you_  
_I'll always be there for you, girl, I have no shame (shame)  
_I'll always be there for you, I'll always be there for you  
_I'll always be there for you, girl, I have no shame (shame)___

“So what’s this song that made you so weird that it drew all of my attention to you?” It’s a normal question, isn’t it? Yeah, probably; except it doesn’t sound normal at all. It sounds accusatory. But also, at the same time, it sounds like it’s taken from Lauren’s fantasy; it sounds like Camila is under her, full of her, asking her to fuck her harder; it’s hoarse, it’s nothing but a groan. To make things worse, Camila raises an eyebrow at her. “So?”

Lauren’s throat is completely dry. She cannot respond. Not verbally, not in any way. She stands there, blinking, saying nothing.

And then suddenly, the music in one of her ears is gone; instead, there is a _sensation_ _near_ her ear. A strange sensation. A _nice_ sensation. The kind of sensation she'd expect in her fantasy, from her dream lover, but not in real life; and as good as the shivers it gives her make her feel, she has no idea how to react. Before she can think any further, a second kiss is placed on her earlobe. Then-- "Correct me if I'm wrong--" _Fuck_ , what is going on? Lauren gasps. "but I think the emotion I can currently get from you is sexual desire."

Unwillingly, a moan makes its way past Lauren's lips. Her eyes flutter shut, too, and her heart almost gets crushed under the heaviness of the aforementioned emotion. It skips a beat, then two, before positively exploding. It is faster than she can remember it ever being, and when Camila _bites_ her neck, she can't hold back anymore.

_Who's gonna fuck you like--_

_I don't wanna hurt you, but you live for the pain_  
_I'm not tryna say it, but it's what you became  
_You want me to fix you, but it's never enough  
_S'why you always call me, cause you're scared to be loved___

Lauren takes all the inner strength she has left to grip Camila's hips, turn her around, and press her into the black car they've been next to this whole time. She leans into her, looks into her dark brown eyes---they're full of desire, too---and finally, she whispers, "I have no shame admitting that."

Camila---who is still a bit perplexed---smirks. "Is that so?" It's a challenge, and her voice is full of sarcasm, and Lauren absolutely cannot have that.

So she claims Camila's lips with her own. It isn't pretty, it isn't gentle. It's rough. It's all teeth sinking into flesh, it's groan after groan, it's sweating, it's almost ripping each other's clothes of, it's scratching backs through fabric. And, by the end of the incredibly hot, incredibly messy kiss, they're panting, looking at each other with hooded eyes that are dripping with lust, that are daring the other to say something first.

Lauren gives in. Because this tension is unbearable, because she needs to say it, because she needs Camila, and because as shameless as she is, maybe the parking lot of her local church isn't the best place for this. So, with her arms still on either side of Camila's face and music still filling her left ear, she thinks about what to say.

_But I'll always be there for you, I'll always be there for you_  
_I'll always be there for you, girl, I have no shame (shame)  
_I'll always be there for you, I'll always be there for you  
_I'll always be there for you, girl, I have no shame (shame)___

Camila raises an eyebrow, signaling her that she's listening, that she can start.

And Lauren does. "I was getting fresh air when this song came on." Normally, she'd be embarrassed to tell someone she's just met any of what she's about to say, but this isn't a normal situation at all. Plus, they're already way pasg the _embarrassing_ stage. "And I was standing here, minding my business, when the lyrics started hitting me. I started having these, um, images in my head. They were like clouds in my brain, I couldn't think about anything else, couldn't make sense of anything else. It was me and-- and someone faceless at first, just--" Lauren clears her throat.

Camila grins.

"You get the idea." She leans back, bringing a tiny bit of distance between them, then continues talking. "As you could obviously tell, I was already getting kind of turned on. I mean, with that song and that stuff in my head…" Lauren bites her lip. She can't help but think back to the fantasy again. _Jesus._ "And then you were suddenly there, and my brain had finally found someone to put in that fantasy with me, so while you were standing in front of me, we were already crying out our pleasure in my head."

The grin on Camila's face has turned into a softer smile. Why, she doesn't know.

"So you get why I was a bit-- you know." It's the end of her speech, and although they've been to second base already, Lauren now isn't sure what to expect from her counterpart. Is the woman going to leave without a word? Is she going to laugh? Is she going to want to play out the fantasy? God, this is so _tense_. To distract herself for a second, she reaches up to take her second earphone out before a random song comes on and presses pause on the headphone cord.

"Well," Camila says after a long pause, "are you going to take me to dinner before you get me into bed?"

"Huh?"

The woman is smiling a bit of an awkward smile now.

That's new.

"Not that I'd mind having sex right away, you're totally gorgeous and we're kind of already way past the date thing, but, like, you seem really cool and even though you kind of intimidate me now that I'm not feeling as powerful as when I knew what you were thinking because of something I learned in my psychology class anymore, I still want to ask you out before I lose the strength to say anything to you at all because I don't even know what to do in situations like this and I don't even know where I started out with this sentence so I'm feeling very embarrassed and I think I should probably stop."

Okay, wow. How did Camila go from sexiest woman ever to cutest girl ever in a matter of seconds? "You're adorable," she laughs out. This encounter is all kinds of strange, but she's absolutely loving it.

"I'm what?" she hears the woman ask.

She shrugs. "You're adorable and I definitely want to go out with you. Give me your number and I'll text you."

"Oh my God," Camila laughs quietly, "I can't believe you still want to see me again after I've just shown you what a complete nerd I am." She takes out her phone, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Well," Lauren says while she gets her own phone out of her pocket, "you _are_ a dork, but you're a cute dork, the cutest I've encountered so far, and I'd love to see more of that dorkiness." She hands Camila her cell to let her type in her contact info.

And she watches her intently as she does, smiling at how her eyebrows and knitted in concentration as her vision carefully switches from phone to phone to make sure everything is correct. Once she's finished, Lauren takes her phone back. She locks it, but keeps it in her hand.

"So…" she starts. So... what, though? She doesn't know what to say.

Camila doesn't, either. "So… um," is all that she says in return.

"I'll just-- I think I better go back in before they call the police," she jokes in hopes to lighten the atmosphere slightly.

It works. Kind of. "Yeah, and I suppose I should go home and wait for-- wait for your text." Camila scratches the back of her head.

"Okay, well, I'll text you in a bit."

"Sure. Bye." With that, Camila sends her one last smile, then turns around to leave in the same direction Lauren saw her appear from earlier.

Lauren takes in a sharp breath, then runs her hand through her sweaty hair. "Jesus," she mutters to herself. She then puts her phone back into her pocket. One 180 later and she's on the way back into church.

 _Church_ . Wow. She's never felt more dirty and more ready to confess than she does now. She really hopes that her mom or dad can't tell what she's just been up to with a _stranger_ \---more or less anyway---and that they don't ask, either. They don't mind that she's into girls, but she's pretty sure any parent would mind their child being up to something like what she has just been up to. It's almost funny. This is just-- as weird as it sounds, but she feels like right now is the worst time to have a dad who's a priest.

Ah well, she just has to make sure he never gets to know what she has just done.

And what she's about to do every single Sunday behind the church. And what kind of things she and Camila text each other every time they're in public. Or in private. Or every time they're listening to the song.

 _It's going to be our thrilling little secret_ , she finds herself typing later.

Her mouth goes dry once again as she looks at her phone to read the reply a few minutes later. She bites her lip as she stares at the screen.

_I like that._

_Screw dinner btw_


End file.
